


After All

by Dolimir



Category: Highlander: The Series, The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-03
Updated: 2011-07-03
Packaged: 2017-10-20 23:37:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/218332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolimir/pseuds/Dolimir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Scot studied his friend for several moments, taking in the stiff back and the eyes that wouldn't quite meet his. Duncan put his mug on the counter and slowly moved behind his friend, gently wrapping his arms around him. "He was your Tessa, wasn't he?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	After All

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Frostdoll](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Frostdoll).



> I wrote this in 2002 as a gift for Frostdoll. Since that time, I've lost pieces of the stories several times. I finally found it all in one piece and decided I better post it before I lost it again.

**1998**

Duncan MacLeod watched his friend gently touch the screen of the television set sitting on the kitchen counter. "So, was he a sentinel?"

"Aye." Blair dropped his hand and turned to give his friend a wan smile.

"What was he…your hundredth or so?"

Blair took a deep breath and released it slowly. "No. My twentieth."

"But I thought--"

"Oh, I've identified about a hundred or so throughout the ages, but I've only guided twenty. A lot of them already had guides or were too old to serve in the defense of their tribes or had already gone insane."

Duncan picked the tea kettle off the stove before it whistled and poured the steaming water into two mugs. "So where will you head now?"

Blair's smile was forced. "I'm thinking Tahiti for a bit. I need to do the wastrel thing for a couple of decades. I've sort of made a name for myself this time out."

"Well, you certainly published enough."

Blair looked back at the image of the stoic detective on the screen. "I must admit I managed to cram a lot into these last fifteen years."

Duncan removed the teabags from the mugs and pushed one toward his friend. "You never told him, did you?"

"No. There was never a need. I was never challenged during our time together."

Duncan blew on the liquid before he took a small sip. "Would have been interesting to watch you balance being a cop with--"

"You've got a warped sense of humor, Highlander." Blair laughed, then sobered and turned off the television.

"This one meant something to you though." Duncan felt the truth of the words even as he spoke them.

"They've all meant something to me."

The Scot studied his friend for several moments, taking in the stiff back and the eyes that wouldn't quite meet his. Duncan put his mug on the counter and slowly moved behind his friend, gently wrapping his arms around him. "He was your Tessa, wasn't he?"

Blair tried to shrug off his arms, but Duncan held him tight, held him as Blair struggled to free himself, held him as the first sob shook his frame, held him as he screamed his anger and sadness to the heavens, held him long after Blair had passed out from exhaustion.

**********

**2000**

"You're insane!"

Amanda sighed heavily. Just once, she'd like someone to say, _'Okay, now what?'_ No one ever believed her without a demonstration. "You're not the first one to say so."

"So you're saying I'm dead?"

"Obviously, you aren't dead, handsome. What I said is that you died." Amanda examined the blue eyed man in front of her. He really was gorgeous, if you liked the muscular law enforcement type, which she did. She twisted on the chair, grabbed the remote and turned up the volume on the evening news.

_Topping this evening's news, tragedy strikes the Cascade Police Department. Twice-decorated, Officer of the Year, Detective James Ellison of Major Crime Unit was killed in a shoot-out with drug runners on Pier Seventeen at the Cascade docks. Before officers could reach his body, the criminals pushed Detective Ellison's body over the pier and into the ocean below. Although rescue workers have been dispatched, the detective’s body has yet to be retrieved._

Amanda watched the detective blink.

"But…but…”

Amanda sighed, realizing she’d better get on with the demonstration. "Follow me to the kitchen, handsome."

*****

James Ellison sat in a wicker rocking chair on the porch of his father's cabin, knowing he was safe from discovery for at least several more weeks. He stared over the lake, trying hard not to lose himself in any one sensation, afraid that he might zone and starve to death. His chest heaved once in silent laughter. If he starved to death, he’d only awaken too weak to move and die again. A literal hell on earth.

He was a foundling. It didn't make any sense. How could he be a foundling when he had a mother and father? There were dozens of explanations, even hundreds, but none of them gave him any comfort. A small part of him played with the idea of finding his father—William-- and demanding an answer, but he realized he couldn't bring himself to deliberately hurt the man who had raised him as his own son. Despite the fact that William had been far from perfect, he had tried, had always treated Jim as his own; and Jim had to give the man some credit for the attempt.

He thought about his immediate future and realized it was now all about death: death of his past, death of his friendships and family relationships.

He could acknowledge that he had always held some arrogance regarding his ability to cheat death, to live on the edge and yet not succumb to the void. But now, even permanent death was denied him--unless someone took his head. His ability to survive his circumstances had been cheapened.

Sword fighting didn't really bother him, although he wondered why he should care about _The Game_. To rule the world? Jim had never been interested in power. He was perfectly content to be a warrior; he had no desire to be a chief.

Amanda had explained the rules of _The Game_ , had explained about holy ground, watchers, quickenings, and had even given him a brief overview of some of the major players. He was virtually a babe in the woods compared to some of the other warriors. Although he asked several times, Amanda had been deliberately vague about how she happened upon him at the exact moment of his death. All she would say was that she was doing a favor for a friend of a friend of a friend.

He shook his head disdainfully as he thought about his future. What was he going to do? Where was he going to go? Would he be able to find someone to love? And if he did, would he have to watch them grow old and die? Hadn't he already lost enough people in his life? Now he had centuries to lose more. He sighed deeply. At least he hadn't had to watch Blair grow old and die.

**********

**2105**

Jim knew the exact moment the immortal in the park became aware of him. The thin man came to an immediate halt and quickly scanned his environment; however, Jim knew the man wouldn’t be able to see anything in the darkness. Once again he gave thanks that his heightened senses allowed him to feel other immortals before they felt him. It had saved his life more than once.

The man on the path sighed heavily and looked at his watch. Jim smiled to himself, practically feeling the frustration reverberate off the immortal, although surprisingly enough, the immortal didn't seem overly anxious. Jim surmised that the man before him was an ancient, at least a thousand years old, since most of the younger immortals still tended to get caught up in the excitement of the game.

"I don't suppose we could postpone this gathering until after my lecture?" the stranger called out in a slightly aggravated voice.

Jim let the other immortal simmer in silence for nearly a minute. "It depends." He raised an eyebrow in surprise when the immortal turned in his general direction.

"On?"

"Your intentions."

"Well, my intention was to go to Rainier and give a lecture on ancient Roman customs."

"No doubt a walk in memory park for you."

The other immortal grinned. "Well, yes, although I must admit that as the centuries blur by I find my memories of that time fading just a bit. Talking about the time period helps keep the memories alive."

"It sucks growing old." Jim laughed, surprised when he realized he liked the immortal facing him.

"Adam Pierson," the other mortal introduced himself.

"James Ellison." Jim stepped out from behind his tree. "And Adam Pierson was a Watcher last century."

"Why yes, I was, although I'm surprised you know that little morsel of information."

"Sort of a hide in plain sight maneuver?" Jim asked.

Adam shrugged. "Well, it amused me at the time. So, how do you know about the Watchers?"

"I caught mine and made her talk."

"You caught her?"

It was Jim's turn to shrug. "The Counsel figured since I was fairly new they could put a fairly new Watcher on me. They didn’t take into consideration that I was a cop before I died."

Adam waved Jim to walk beside him as they walked toward the university. “And?”

"We were great friends until her death," Jim said quietly.

"Then you knew of Joe Dawson," Adam said, rather than asked, with a small catch in his voice.

"Yes. I never met him, but I've heard the name."

"An extraordinary man, for a mortal."

Jim nodded, remaining silent. He cautiously studied the immortal beside him. Although he looked fairly young, Jim could feel the weight of the centuries lay across this man's shoulders. It surprised him that one so old could still be moved by the loss of a mortal.

"Ah, here we are." Adam broke from the park and headed up the stairs of the lecture hall.

"Sandburg Hall." Jim smiled with loving amusement.

"Yeah. He hates it, but what can he do?" Adam laughed.

Jim stumbled. Without thought, he grabbed the immortal by the shoulder and spun him around, only to find a sword tip pressing gently against his throat. Jim ignored the sword. "What did you say?"

Adam frowned, then shrugged and placed the sword back in his overcoat. "I said he hates that they named a hall after him."

"Hates. Not would have hated? Or hated?" Jim's mind was spinning.

Adam blinked at him. "You know the Wanderer?"

Jim's legs wobbled, no longer able to support his weight.

Adam put an arm around Jim's waist. "Why don't you sit in on my lecture and we can talk afterward?"

Jim nodded absently. Blair was alive?

**********

Jim took a long swig of his beer and studied Adam Pierson studying him.

"So, Jim, how do you know the Wanderer?"

Jim bit his lip in frustration. He wanted to shout at Pierson to tell him what he knew, but knew the older immortal wouldn't divulge any information until he knew Jim's intentions. "Before I died, we were friends…roommates actually."

"Ah. So you're a sentinel."

Jim startled, which made Adam laugh. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have sprung it on you like that. But Blair has always been fascinated with sentinels and the only time he settles down for any extended period of time is when he finds one. Since you said you were roommates, I just assumed that’s why he settled with you."

"Because of the heightened senses?" Jim asked tentatively.

"Well, that too, but he's always been fascinated by how those with hyperactive senses almost always take on the role of protector within their tribe. In the early years, it made sense to have your scouts have heightened senses, but throughout the centuries when the need for watchmen wasn't nearly as great, sentinels still migrated to jobs or avocations which protected the community."

"Not Alex though," Jim remembered.

"Alex?"

"The sentinel…who killed Sandburg. At least, I mean…"

"Oh, yes, the insane one." Adam took a sip of beer. "Blair still kicks himself for not finding her sooner. He feels as if he failed somehow with her."

"But she killed him," Jim sputtered in outrage.

Adam shrugged. "Painful, to be sure, but not the end of the world, as you know."

Jim took a sip from his own stein. "So how old is he…Blair?"

"I don't know for sure." Adam leaned back into the vinyl seat of their booth. "But I've known him for about two thousand years."

"Two…thousand," Jim whispered voicelessly. "How…how…"

"Does he maintain his youthful enthusiasm for life? Keep from becoming disillusioned?" Adam asked, knowingly.

Jim nodded, unable to speak.

"Blair is fascinated by mortals and life in general. He always sees the good in people."

"He's never lost that enthusiasm?"

Adam frowned. "The only dark spot on his otherwise sunny disposition was World War Two."

"Dear God, don't tell me--"

Adam held up his hand, looking profoundly sad. "That's a story he’ll need to tell you if he ever decides to share it. He couldn't talk about it for a long time. It's the only time he ever went truly mad."

"Mad?"

"When you have live as long as we have, you will occasionally…lose your humanity." Adam dropped his gaze to his mug and sighed, then looked back up at Jim with a rueful smile. "I thought for centuries that Mary Sunshine couldn't be darkened. There was a time I even wanted to push him into the darkness to see if he could even feel rage. That's not to say that he didn't experience loss or sadness, but he seemed to accept the cycles of life. But after having seen his rage, I would never wish that madness on anyone."

"How…how did he bounce back?" Jim tried to reconcile his happy-go-lucky Blair with the dark creature Adam was describing.

"I don't know."

Jim nodded, knowing there were some questions better left unanswered. "He was a teacher when I knew him," he said after a moment of silence.

Adam smiled. "He's always been a teacher, a shaman, a spiritual guide. He makes the Highlander look like a ruffian in comparison and MacLeod's one of the biggest boy scouts I know."

"Where is he?" Jim asked.

Adam opened his mouth, then shut it again. "You mean the Wanderer?"

Jim nodded.

"I don't know. I saw him about five years ago in the Southwest. He's always been fascinated by Navaho spiritualism. You might find him there, but then again, the wind may have blown him somewhere else by now."

"I'll find him," Jim vowed.

Adam smiled with some amusement. "Your guide doesn't need you to physically protect him any longer, sentinel."

"No, but his heart does," Jim said quietly. "His heart does."

**********

**2231**

Finding Blair Sandburg was easier said than done. Jim learned that the name _Wanderer_ wasn't a moniker just chosen at random for his friend, but an attribute that seemed to be ingrained into him.

In a time when technology was all but God, Blair had the ability to effortlessly fly beneath its radar. While he embraced technology, he was apparently just as happy to live without it. Jim had tracked him over each of the seven continents, sometimes missing him by only a matter of days. The roles his friend had taken on over the years had been numerous. He had studied spiritualism with the aborigines of Australia, been an artist in Paris, a computer geek in New York City, and a teacher in several different capacities.

But in the one hundred and twenty-six years since he’d made his vow, Jim had never actually seen his friend. At times, he despaired of ever finding him.

His immortal friends took to calling him _The Follower._

Jim supposed if he had actually devoted one hundred percent of his time to finding Blair, he probably could have done it in a fairly short amount of time. But life had a way of happening. People needed help or he needed to refresh his financial resources.

He quickly learned how to make his funds grow, how to invest his capital in case the market crashed, which it had done twice since he’d became immortal. A lesson harder won was how to hide his wealth in plain sight as far as the financial world and governments were concern. He had accounts stashed all over the world in a hundred different banks and under a hundred different names, as well as other valuables which could be used in place of money if need be, but it had taken decades to build such a stock pile. By the time he had the resources to travel unfettered, the trail had grown stone cold.

When he grew frustrated with the chase, Jim often found himself back in Cascade. While he enjoyed traveling and exploring the world, there was something about being home which helped him find peace with his situation.

It also gave him the opportunity to check up on Steven's descendants and make sure the family line was still going strong. He found solace in wandering the campus of Rainier and checking out the structural soundness of Sandburg Hall. He had made several hefty donations over the last century to ensure that it remained in good repair. It seemed foolish to spend money on a building that embarrassed his friend, but it made Jim feel somewhat closer to his lost companion.

Jim leaned back on the park bench and enjoyed the winter afternoon's rays and wondered briefly if he’d run into another immortal. It seemed like one was always popping up whenever he visited the college park.

No sooner had the thought been made, when he felt the familiar tingle at the back of his neck. He sat up and scanned the park, but the only figure in sight was a student jogging across the park.

"Hey!" he yelled, more out of curiosity than anything else.

The bundled figure turned toward him. The only thing Jim could see was the person's nose. A wool scarf was wrapped around the jogger's neck, a wool cap covered their ears and head, and dark sunglasses covered their eyes. "Yeah?"

Jim chuckled to himself, not entirely sure why he’d stopped the student, but as he looked around the park, he could discern no sign of another immortal. "If I were to say there can be only one, what would you say?"

"Fuck!" the figure swore loudly, definitely male. The immortal pulled his jacket sleeve back and looked at his watch. "Look I'm running behind and I've only got ten minutes to get to my lecture. I don't suppose we could do," the figure waved his hands back and forth between Jim and himself, "this afterward?"

"Methos?" Jim called out in surprise.

"No. Sorry. Look if you want, you can come with me to make sure I don't get away, but please, let me give this lecture. I made the commitment like two years ago."

Jim laughed out loud. "Sure."

"C'mon on then." And without further ado, the figure continued his jog.

Intrigued, Jim stood and followed the errant lecturer and wasn't overly surprised to find that Sandburg Hall was his final destination. Jim moved up the steps and removed his stocking cap as he entered the building, heading unerringly toward the lecture hall.

"Sorry. Sorry. Sorry, Jan." Jim heard the immortal apologize in lieu of a greeting as he hugged a middle aged woman standing on the dais in front of the hall.

"No worries, Jakkob. Class doesn't start for another twenty minutes."

"But you said two o'clock."

"Yes, and you're always fifteen minutes late."

The immortal unwrapped the scarf from his neck. "If you weren't so darn cute…”

"You'd what?" Jan challenged.

The lecturer popped off his hat and removed his sunglasses. "It's a darn good thing you're married too." Removing his gloves, he leaned forward and gave Jan a peck on the cheek then ran his fingers through his long curly hair. "Are the slides set up?"

"Yes, the projector is about midway back --"

Jim missed the rest of the statement as the figure turned and revealed the face of his long-lost friend. Gasping, he tried to sit down, but missed the seat, creating a loud racket as he fell to the ground.

The sound of feet running up the lecture room's shallow stairs told him he needed to get his act together and quickly.

"Are you okay…Oh my god."

"Hello, Blair," Jim whispered as the figure leaned over him.

The immortal shook his head in disbelief and stumbled back several feet. "No. It can't be."

"Jakkob?" Jan called out in concern.

Blair continued to shake his head, but no sound escaped his throat.

"Is there somewhere we can talk?" Jim tilted his head toward the teacher who seemed to be growing more distressed the longer her friend refused to acknowledge her.

"I…I…I…I have a lecture."

Jim rose swiftly to his feet and pulled a business card out of his wallet. "Can you meet me here? Tonight? At six?"

Blair stepped forward to accept the card, then moved back to his original position. He nodded, but didn't say anything.

"I'll make dinner."

Blair nodded and Jim did the hardest thing he ever had to do. He left.

**********

Jim felt Blair's presence several minutes before he actually knocked on the door and knew that his one-time partner was still debating the wisdom of the meeting.

Finally, a knock echoed around the loft. Putting on his best game face, Jim opened the door, only to find the tip of a very sharp katana pointed at his throat.

"I am Jakkob, of the tribe of Zebulun. I know not who you are, but you are not James Joseph Ellison of Cascade. Speak now your name or lose your head."

"Jakkob, son of the tribe of Zebulun, I think we need to have this conversation inside before we attracted the attention of my neighbors."

Blair frowned, but nodded, stepping slowly into the loft, never removing the blade from Jim's throat. He shut the door behind him, his eyes scanning everywhere.

If it had been anyone else, Jim would have tried to disarm him, but he had no doubt that he would’ve lost his head if he tried.

Once he had Blair's full attention again, he said, softly. "I am James Joseph Ellison. Your sentinel…" His voice squeaked to a stop as the blade was gently pressed into his neck. "I can prove it," he gasped.

Blair took a step back, lowering the katana slightly as he raised one eyebrow in challenge.

"When we were together, you told me your mother's name was Naomi."

Blair's grin was a sly one. "My mother's name was Naomi."

"Simon Banks was my boss," Jim added quickly. "He had a son named Daryl. You adored Daryl. Simon dated a nurse for a while named…Angie…Aggie…no Amiee. That's it, Aimee. We used to go fishing all the time. I taught you to fly-fish. Well, at least I thought I had."

"You did, that is, Jim did. Not to fish, obviously, but to fly fish."

"You loved Ben and Jerry's, and thought Häagen-Dazs was pretentious."

A slow smile grew over Blair's face.

"You made me eat a shit load of tofu."

The smile grew larger, then suddenly disappeared.

"How--"

"I'm an immortal, like you."

"You can't be." Blair frowned. "I would’ve been able to feel you if you were a prebie." Blair raised the katana again. "Why can't I feel you now?"

Jim shook his head. "I don't know."

"You can't be immortal."

Jim had planned for such a reaction. Without another word, he moved his forearm up and slowly sliced it on the blade before him.

"Shit."

Blair jumped back, but Jim simply held up a hand asking him to wait. They both watched as the skin knitted itself back together.

"That's impossible."

Jim shook his head. "Weren't you the one who always told me to keep an open mind? That the universe was bigger and more mysterious than I could ever begin to comprehend?"

"But I can't feel you." Blair slapped the back of his neck.

Jim took a step forward, gently moving Blair's sword arm aside. "Maybe you're concentrating on the wrong part of your body."

The sword dropped to the wood floor. "You threw me away."

Jim closed his eyes, feeling the pain of Blair's death anew. "I know," he whispered.

"She killed me."

Jim leaned his head on the shorter man's shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

"What do you want, Jim?"

"To walk by your side again."

Blair stepped back and looked into his eyes.

"What is a sentinel without his guide?" Jim reasoned.

"Are you still--"

"Yes."

Shaking his head, Blair took a step back. "We're different people now, Jim."

Jim closed the distance between them, pressing Blair against the door. "Are we? We may have different names, different histories, but are we truly different people?"

Before Blair could answer, Jim leaned his head down and brushed his mouth over the lips that had taunted his dreams for over two hundred years.

Blair moaned. Jim started to pull back, but Blair's hands gently cupped his cheeks and his tongue dipped shyly into Jim's mouth, causing Jim’s breath to catch. Blair deepened the kiss, his hands pulling down on Jim's neck. Jim’s hands scrabbled over Blair's jean covered ass and pulled him even closer, feeling Blair's arousal push into his leg.

"Tell me you don't want me," Jim taunted quietly over Blair's lips. "Tell me you can walk away now. Tell me I meant nothing to you."

"This isn't the Jim I knew." Blair panted harshly, even though his body arched against Jim's, seeking relief.

"I swear that Jim has evolved." Jim’s lips ghosted over Blair's face. "You know what the best thing about being an immortal is?"

Blair lunged forward, gently biting Jim’s lower lip. "No, what?"

"You have time to think through any problem." Jim ran his hands through Blair's hair and gently massaged his scalp. "I used to think my problems were earth shattering. I thought I had to live up to what other people thought of me. I was afraid to be myself, to go after what I wanted in life. And in the end, I lost the one thing that was important to me."

"What?" Blair asked in a whisper.

"You." Jim took a deep breath and released it slowly. "Come, grow old with me, Blair. The best is yet to be."

Blair chuckled against Jim's mouth when Jim leaned in for another kiss.

"What?"

"We can't grow old, Jim."

The sentinel rolled his gaze heavenward.

"I'm just saying--"

Jim peppered his face with soft kisses.

"We have so much to talk about, so much to discuss."

"Do you see me running?" Jim asked quietly.

Blair looked into his sentinel's face, his eyes sober. "Can you do this, Jim? Can you do eternity with me?"

Jim gathered him in his arms and held him tight. "Time cannot contain us, nor does eternity explain us, but possess me in time and you have experienced eternity."

"Fair enough," Blair agreed.

Jim nuzzled Blair's neck. "So just how old are you anyway?"

Blair grinned, took Jim's hand and headed toward the bedroom. "Let's just say you should be relieved to know that I don't have a thing against loving much younger men."

~* End ~*


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